


All’s Well That Ends Well

by FireEagle12



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Asphyxiation, Despondent Felix, Emotions, Everyone’s sad, Mental Health Issues, Mentions of Masturbation, Post-Blue Lions Route (Fire Emblem: Three Houses), Suicide Attempt, The boys are struggling, they lost the war
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-17
Updated: 2019-09-18
Packaged: 2020-10-20 11:20:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20674532
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FireEagle12/pseuds/FireEagle12
Summary: Edelgard won. It’s been two years since the war ended and Fodlan is in ruins. The Empire hunted down most of the Alliance and the Kingdom. Sylvain, Felix, Dimitri, and Ashe live together in what remains of Garreg Mach. They’re all broken in their own ways and just trying to make it through the days.





	1. Sylvain

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic ever! Fire Emblem is my life rn and it’s driven me to this. I can’t bring myself to finish any of the paths because I DON’T WANT IT TO END. 
> 
> This seems a little dark. But I promise, All’s Well That Ends Well!

Sylvain awoke slowly to the sound of dripping. Perfect he thought it’s raining. He dragged himself out of bed and pulled on a pair of sweats and a hole-ridden, gray t-shirt. He sighed at the dismal clothing. The fancy button downs and silky undershirts were a fantasy of the past since the war had ended. 

Sylvain grimaced at the thought. The war for Fodlan had ended with Edelgard coming out on top. Many of his dearest friends had perished or disappeared trying to fight her mad reign, but in the end, her might and pure bloodlust was too much to overcome. 

The remnants of the Blue Lions had conjoined in Garreg Mach once all hope was lost. Now just four ghosts - four shells of empty human beings - wandered fruitlessly through the melancholy church grounds. 

How long has it been? Sylvain thought idly, staring at his reflection in a cracked floor length mirror tucked neatly into the corner of his still pristine room. A year? Two? He frowned at the bloodstains on his t-shirt, left there by some thieves he killed who thought there was anything left in the Monastery worth stealing. “Ugh, what does it matter?” he asked aloud to the room, expecting no answer and receiving none.

Sylvain exited his room. Already bored with the day knowing nothing of interest will happen. His companions weren’t very companionable these days and it left him with a depressed feeling deep in his chest. The other three ghosts that haunted the Monastery were Felix, Dimitri, and Ashe. None of them were in a sound mental state to make reasonable conversation anymore. Sylvain was lonely.

He released a long breath he didn’t know he was holding and began his routine. Walking past the deranged prince’s room, he stared at the door. He knew Dimitri wasn’t in there. Dimitri rarely, if ever, came to the dorms and if he did, it was usually to growl at him for something he touched that Dimitri considered sacred. Sylvain rolled his eyes at the thought. Of course I’m gonna fuck with interesting things I find. There’s nothing else to do in this place. He swallowed down the anger that was rising in his throat. It was becoming a too familiar feeling - irritation at Dimitri’s continuing and (Sylvain thinks) imaginary derangement. Sylvain knew he couldn’t last much longer if he got sick of his companions. The knowledge that there were others going through this hell was the only thing that kept him on his feet. 

Sylvain continued walking to the next room. He rapt his knuckles twice on the door. No response. He counted out five seconds in his head and he twisted the handle of the door. It creaked open slowly and he offered a sad smile to the shape huddled on the bed. 

He approached the smaller man and gently shook him by the shoulder. He was already dressed, lying in the clothes Sylvain had left him in the night before. Hallow mahogany eyes stared up at the red head. “C’mon, Felix, let’s go train.”

A flicker of - something - flashed through Felix’s empty eyes and he sat up. His long, straight, hair tumbled loosely to his shoulders. Sylvain sat next to him and tugged gently on his hair so Felix would turn away from him. The red-head gathered all the black-blue strands up into a passable pony tail and tied it off with a broken hair tie on Felix’s desk. Once this task was done, Sylvain stood up and walked out of the room, Felix followed slowly a few steps behind. Same shit, different day Sylvain thought to himself as he lead Felix through the rain to the training grounds. 

As he entered the grounds he questioned why they even bothered training. The last four people that had any hope of surmounting some form of rebellion were mere shadows of their former selves. There was no point training for a coup that would never occur. But it was the routine and one of the only ways to get Felix out of his room anymore. So Sylvain grabbed a lance from the broken pile of wooden training weapons and Felix grabbed a sword. They walked to opposite sides of the training grounds and began their daily dance. 

After training for a few hours will Felix, he ushered the despondent man towards the dining hall. Food is necessary to survive and, as catatonic as Felix is, Sylvain won’t let him die from starvation. Sylvain digs through the supplies they’ve stored in the kitchen. He finds some spicy jerky that used to be Felix’s favorite. He grabs enough for both of them and returns to where he left the swordsman, sitting in the exact same position he left him in. Felix sat at one of the long dining benches staring at the table in front of him, a slight frown etched into his otherwise expressionless features. Sylvain put the jerky into Felix’s hand and Felix moved his gaze from the table to the food, staring at it for several long seconds before finally taking a bite and ripping a piece of the dried meat off. He chewed slowly, his gaze directed back towards. Sylvain sighed again. He feels like he’s always sighing these days. As long as Felix was out of his room and eating something, everything was right in the universe. Sylvain chuckled at his own thoughts. 

A loud slam had Sylvain jumping up and spinning towards the noise. The large oak doors to the dining hall cracked further as Dimitri threw the heavy door open full force. He stomped into the room looking like he was bordering on fury. Sylvain braced himself as the infuriated prince marched towards him. Oh goddess, what did I do this time? he thought as Dimitri drew closer. He let out a held breath as the prince stormed right past him. 

“Your Highness, will you listen to me?” a quiet voice called from the entrance to the dining hall. Ashe was standing just inside the room looking flustered and dejected.

The bear of a man rounded on the small archer, “I won’t,” Dimitri roared. The former thief flinched at the harsh response.

“But, Your Highness, if we could just-“

“No.”

The word was quiet this time, with a finality that made Sylvain want to beg Ashe to quit talking. Dimitri had turned back around and was making his way more slowly towards the food stores. Sylvain watched Ashe take a deep breath and approach Dimitri. Sylvain tensed as Ashe laid a tentative hand on Dimitri’s shoulder. Bad move, Sylvain thought a moment before Dimitri responded. With an inhuman roar, Dimitri rounded on Ashe, grabbing the small, silver-haired man by the arm and hurling him into the nearest support pillar. The table next to Sylvain trembled slightly from the force of the impact. Sylvain wretched at the sight of Ashe sitting limp against the pillar with his arm twisted the wrong way in the socket. Being this violent was unusual for Dimitri, especially with Ashe. Even Felix had lifted his eyes from the table to watch the events unfurl with an uninterested gaze. Dimitri stared hard at Ashe’s limp form and Sylvain waited tense, wondering if he would have to intervene. Finally, the ghost-prince’s shoulders slumped in defeat and he walked back the way he had come, seemingly uninterested in eating now. 

Sylvain finally let out his held breath. He rushed to Ashe’s side, already drawing on his magic reserves to help Ashe however he could. The archer looked up as Sylvain kneeled in front of him. He whimpered as Sylvain grabbed his twisted arm. He pulled and twisted and felt a pop as the joint went back into place. Ashe let out a high pitched eep! at the sudden pain. “Sorry, Ashe,” Sylvain apologized, “but now I can heal it right!” He gave Ashe his best and brightest reassuring smile as he began healing the muscles and tendons with magic. After a few minutes of sweating over his work, Sylvain drew back with a satisfied huff. Thank Seiros I learned healing magic before the war he thought self-satisfied while Ashe tested the newly healed joint. He helped the younger man up and started his question with an easy laugh: “So what in Fodlan made you leave the library to pursue the mad king?” 

Ashe shrugged looking downtrodden. “Well... I was reading a book about secret passages around Fodlan, and I was thinking that maybe some of our allies are still alive...” Ashe mumbled and then trailed off. Dimitri’s response to his information had made the archer hesitant. 

“That’s great news!” Sylvain all but shouted and clapped a hand on Ashe’s newly healed shoulder. Ashe gave a yelp as the shoulder would still need a few days for the pain to fully ebb. “Oops, sorry.” Sylvain apologized again, looking sheepish at his thoughtlessness. 

“It’s... alright. Just aches a bit,” Ashe grumbled out through clenched teeth. “Oh yeah,” he continued a little brighter, “I found that book you were looking for and the herbs are ready in the garden!” 

“Hey, hey! Not so loud,” Sylvain clapped a hand over Ashe’s mouth and leaned down to whisper into the shorter man’s ear, “I don’t want this kind of thing getting around the Monastery.” He looked at Felix, worries the swordsman had heard, but Felix had averted his gaze back to the table and seemed unaware of the pair. Ashe looked at Sylvain with clear concern. There were only two other people in the Monastery besides them and neither of them were in a sound mental state. For Sylvain to be this jumpy meant nothing but bad news. 

“Sylvain, just remember, this herb, it can be really dangerous... and I looked through that book... be careful, okay? Everyone here relies on you.”

Sylvain scoffs, “yeah, that’s part of the problem. I’m the only one still trying to live and hold this place together, the stress is really getting to me. I need release.”

“Sylvain...” Ashe murmurs, a slight red tint just breaching his freckled cheeks. 

“Look. I know you prefer the sanctity of the library. Don’t worry about it... I can deal. I’m fine.”

“I trust you, Sylvain,” Ashe sighs and looks directly into Sylvain’s eyes, hoping to find the purpose behind his odd requests. “Let’s go get those herbs and be done with this.”

“I’ll follow you!” Sylvain laughs and slings a loose arm around Ashe’s shoulders, dragging him towards the greenhouse rather then following. Finally! Sylvain thinks with excitement, I’m finally going to be able to break this monotonous routine. His smile slipped into something a little more dark and Ashe looked up at the usually easy-going man with apprehension knotting in his stomach. Sylvain noticed Ashe’s glance and he quickly slipped back into his flippant façade. 

The walk to the greenhouse is thankfully short as the drizzle from earlier has turned into a torrential downpour. By the time they get into the safe, warm walls of the glass house, they’re both soaked to the bone. Ashe gets to work immediately harvesting one of the herbs he had hid among the back of the greenhouse. Not that anyone but Ashe gardened, but Ashe felt it would be better safe then sorry with a potent herb like this. He put the herb into a small cloth sack and handed it to a very wet Sylvain. He couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight. Sylvain didn’t wear the “wet” look very well and he looked very similar to a drowned cat. “What’s so funny?” Sylvain demanded when he saw Ashe’s raised eyebrows and heard his light chuckle. 

“Nothing, nothing,” Ashe chuckled out and then gave a very pointed look to the bag Sylvain now held. “Seriously,” he warned, “I don’t know what you’re planning on doing, but be careful with the stuff. My hand is tingling just from holding it. It could be seriously damaging if you use too much.”

Sylvain gave a dry laugh at Ashe’s concern this time, “damaging is the plan.” Sylvain walked out of the greenhouse and Ashe felt a prickle of fear go up his spine.

___________________________________________

Sylvain takes a deep breath as he pulls at the rope tied around his neck. Nice and secure he thinks and a shudder goes through his body in nervous anticipation. He slips his hand into the loop around his throat, he grunts and tightens it when he feels how slack it is. Tight, the books said tight. I want this to be nice and slow. Sylvain maneuvers the little bag of herbs open and dumps the contents into his hand. He thinks about what Ashe said about too much being dangerous. He chuckles to himself darkly and throws the herb in its entirety into his mouth. He chews, blanches at the taste, and swallows hard. Within seconds his vision swims. One more coherent thought goes through his head as he loses his footing and the stool tips over underneath him and lands with a loud clatter: fuck.


	2. Felix

Felix wanders back to his room. The events of the day puzzling him out of his normal haze. He furrows his eyebrows with irritation at Sylvain. The red head left him at the dining table for hours. Finally, Dimitri had come back to get food without Ashe pestering him and had noticed Felix, still sitting in the spot Sylvain had put him earlier. He had pulled Felix to his feet and dragged him to the training grounds where he proceeded to wail on him with a spear until both men collapsed from exhaustion. Felix thought hard about this exchange.

_Exhausted, Felix collapsed in the middle of the training ground, letting his knees fold into a lopsided sitting position while his training sword fell next to him with a dull thud. Dimitri watched his actions with narrowed eyes. Felix was unsure if the boar was judging him or making sure he was okay. Either way, Felix couldn’t care less. Felix halted his panting as Dimitri began approaching him. He was unsure if the prince would force him to continue their sparring or kick dirt in his face for being too weak to keep up. Instead, Dimitri surprised him by collapsing next to him, leaning his heavier weight against Felix’s slender form._

_“Sylvain should leave you by yourself more often. You make a better sparring partner than the damned dummies.” Felix looked at Dimitri in surprise. It was the first time he had heard the boar sound almost sane since before the end of the war._

_“Thank the goddess he doesn’t. You’d kill me if we trained like that every day, boar,” Felix spat back. And Dimitri laughed. He hadn’t heard Dimitri laugh since... Felix couldn’t remember when. He leaned back against Dimitri’s heavy shoulder and let himself relax into the companionable silence. Shaking himself out of the unusual sense of comfort, Felix stood up and walked to the door of the training grounds. He left without another word, heading to the showers before he retreated back to his room for the day._

Felix sighed at the memory. He hadn’t felt so alive in years. He knew how despondent he’d become, but he could never bring himself to care. He had Sylvain to take care of him so it hardly mattered if he spent his days wandering aimlessly or doing absolutely nothing. Sylvain would make sure he didn’t starve and kept him training daily, so why should it matter if he didn’t put effort in himself. Felix laid his hand on his door handle, but paused before opening it. His anger at Sylvain leaving him today resurfaces in his mind and he debates going to yell at the red head. He would love seeing Sylvain’s surprised face as, after not really talking for years, bites into Sylvain the way he used to before the war. He starts laughing uncontrollably at the thought. He pauses mid mirth as he realizes he sounds manic. Which, he supposes, he is. His irritation switching from being directed towards Sylvain to himself. He carefully replaces the lid on his emotions and decides to at least check on Sylvain before bedding down for the night.

He approached the red head’s room and knocked on the door quietly. “Sylvain?” He asked, the name feeling weird in his mouth after not using it for so long. Instead of a reply, he heard a loud clatter like a chair falling over. “Sylvain?” He asked again, louder this time. This time all he heard was something he could only describe as a gurgle. His eyes went wide at the sound and he threw the door open. A thousand emotions went through his body at the sight before him. His mind settled on something between fear and anger.

Sylvain hung from his neck from a rope tied to the chandelier in his room. His face was beat red with a line of drool trickling from his mouth. Before Felix could think too long about why his childhood friend had chosen to hang himself completely naked he grabbed a knife off of Sylvain’s desk, set the stool back up, and cut him down. Sylvain fell with a thump and he gasped when Felix pulled the rope from his throat.

“What the hell are you doing?” Felix shouted at the gasping red head.

“Felix?” Sylvain sounded dazed. Felix grabbed Sylvain’s face and stared hard into the light brown eyes of his childhood friend. He waited until Sylvain focused on his face before he continued his torrent of worried anger.

“What the fuck, Sylvain? You can’t just... what if you... what if I hadn’t. Damn it Sylvain. You can’t leave me like that” Felix sputtered. He was struggling to make rational thoughts with so many emotions coursing through his body, most of which he had given up shortly after the war ended. He could feel tears beginning to sting at the corners of his eyes.

“Felix? Felix. It’s okay,” Sylvain gasped trying to get air back into his lungs. Sylvain gently tugged his face out of Felix’s crushing grip, worried about the bruises the swordsman was going to leave on his face.

“No! Fucking no, it is not! If you had died... I couldn’t, Sylvain,” the tears Felix was trying to hold back were now sliding steadily down his cheeks.

“Dying? I was... oh. Yeah. Well... things have been... hard... Felix... You and Dimitri haven’t really been willing to... help...” Sylvain stuttered out, a smile playing at the edges of his lips.

“What the hell are you smiling about?” Felix demanded, wiping angrily at the tears.

“It’s just nice to see you showing some emotions” Sylvain said with a full smile. He gave a short laugh, he felt giddy from the strangulation and probably the herbs too.

“Fuck, Sylvain. How could I not? I thought I lost you... We promised. We promised if either of us died the other would go down with him. You can’t just... Ugh. I hate you,” Felix had gotten a control over his tears, but his mind was still spinning.

“I know, man. As I said, everything has been so hard. I just can’t deal with it on my own anymore. I need help, but only Ashe is close enough to sane to help. And you know how Ashe is.”

“Okay,” Felix said, taking a deep breath to calm down, “I’ll help. I’ll help you however I can.”

“I really don’t think you’d be willing...” Sylvain mumbled too low for Felix to hear.

“What was that?”

“Nothing. We need to fix how we’ve been living, Felix.”

“Yeah. Okay. Just... take down that rope and go to sleep. I’m going to talk to Dimitri in the morning,” Felix stated, giving a nervous glance at the half of the rope that still hung from the chandelier. “Also... why are you naked?”

“Uhm... well...” Sylvain struggled to find words to explain. “I uh... didn’t want to get my clothes dirty?” He asked more than he stated.

Felix scoffed at this, “Your clothes are already filthy, idiot.” Sylvain went red and Felix questioned why he seemed so embarrassed. Felix shrugged it off and stood up. He threw Sylvain’s clothes at him, suddenly uncomfortable with the older man’s nudity.

“So, how exactly are you going to get Dimitri to listen to you? He isn’t really keen on doing anything but talk to the voices in his head,” Sylvain asked as he pulled on his sweats. He left the bloodstained shirt off, now self-conscious that an almost completely catatonic Felix had noticed how dirty it was.

“He talked to me today. Like a regular person... After you left me in the dining hall, he took me to train with him. It woke me up a little to have the shit beaten out of me,” Felix was staring distantly in front of him as he replayed the training session again in his mind. He jumped when Sylvain laughed.

“Is that all I needed to do? If you think he’ll listen to you, give it a try.” Sylvain stood up and pulled the stool under the rope to untie it. After the task was done, he flopped down onto his bed. “So, uh... what were you going to do with the rest of your night...?” Sylvain blushed a little after his question.

Felix couldn’t imagine what Sylvain must was suggesting behind his question, so he chose to ignore the blush. “I sure as hell am not leaving you alone after I walked in on...” Felix didn’t finish he just gestured upwards and then back at Sylvain. Sylvain’s blush dropped and a resigned sigh left his lips.

“Felix. I’m fine. Just go get some sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“No. No way. I don’t believe you and I’m not going to risk leaving you by yourself. Now sleep,” Felix said with a finality that Sylvain knew he shouldn’t try to argue with. Except.

“Okay... I don’t mind you watching me sleep, but I gotta deal with something before bed...” Sylvain was blushing again, this time much more prominent on his fair cheeks.

Felix now understood Sylvain’s blush. He groaned, “You are deplorable. You really have it in your mind to...” another gesture, “right after you tried to kill yourself?”

“Well, I don’t know. I guess it was the adrenaline. You can come back and watch me sleep once I’m done though,” Sylvain announced with a wink. “Or,” he continued, “you could stay and watch. Or help?”

Felix spun on his heels and left the room. The door slamming behind him. He could hear Sylvain guffaw through the door. He went back to his room and slammed his door as well. He couldn’t believe how unbelievably insatiable Sylvain could be. He paused and a tremor shook his body. He also couldn’t believe what he had just walked in on. A hot tear slipped down his cheek as he replayed the memory in his mind. A few short minutes more, he could have been too late. He could have lost his childhood friend. More tears followed the first as his mind broke from the fear of what could have been. Never again, he promised himself, I’m not going to lose anyone else. Especially not like that. He took a deep breath and resolved to talk to Dimitri first thing in the morning. He would force the boar to listen if he had to. Felix was going to fix the state that him and his few remaining comrades had been living in. For Sylvain.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! More to come soon!


End file.
